


In Every Reality I am a Fighter

by Lisacreature



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Kuron gets a second chance, M/M, Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-06-18 16:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15490053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisacreature/pseuds/Lisacreature
Summary: After Keith cuts off (clone) Shiro’s Galra arm during their epic battle, Kuron’s consciousness bleeds out of his old body and manages to find another living Shiro clone vessel that somehow survived the destruction of the clone making planet.Now, he is floating in space, drifting closer and closer towards a black hole. Flash after flash he sees the life he thought he had. But, when he hits the black hole he sees one flash of his life he can still have – and it is with Keith, but not in the way he ever expected.





	1. Chapter 1

Shiro is falling down a black and purple spiral towards a black hole – he cannot scream but only weep silent tears knowing that at least his friends and the man he loves now has the real Shiro. The elusive and invisible man who would whisper and scream in his ear deep in the depths of his dreams – repeating the same thing over and over again – 

‘You are not me.’ 

He had not understood what that meant until he lost control to Haggar’s wrenching voice and her simple commands to ‘give in’. For now, he knows, he’s not Shiro – he’s just a copy – a clone created by a purple witch – designed to spy and to hurt the people he loved most.

But Keith, he had still wanted to save him, his sweet, calm and gentle voice throughout their battle together had twisted something deep in his heart.

None of that mattered though as he hurtled through space – down the spiral into the black hole and towards oblivion. And as he continued to fall he realised that he could see white flashes of light coming towards him and he could see his – Shiro’s Japanese parents cradling a crying, red-faced baby, his (or their) mother looking pale and exhausted but looking on at her son who was being slowly rocked to sleep by their father. 

‘It was a tough twenty-four hours and I didn’t think I could bear so much pain, but when I finally heard your cries – I knew you I would do it all again in a heartbeat. You are our light at the end of the tunnel Shiro, our blessing…’ his mother had told him that when he came out to his parents, terrified of their impending disappointment that never came. They were always so proud of him. 

A flash of white hit him again and he’s flying a real plane and not the wonky simulator and his heart was racing if not flying alongside the jet he was piloting. But not because he was finally piloting solo without a tutor, it was because his hand had just brushed over the top of Adam’s hand. 

Another flash. 

‘I found him’ Shiro thinks as he stares on proudly as he watches a young Keith beat every other kid in his class in the simulator.   
The flashes are becoming more intense the closer he gets to the black hole, but are also longer, but still only allowing glimpses.

Flash

A searing hot kiss with Keith smuggled away in some small storage cupboard in the castle. Shiro manages to hitch Keith up against the wall, his hands cupping and supporting his backside as Keith’s legs latch tightly around his waist, leaving beautiful purple bruises on his hip bones to later admire.

Flash

Screaming in agony as he feels his arm being ripped off with shark-like teeth and yet he miraculously manages to behead the tentacled alien before it takes another bite. He’s breathing erratically and in pace with the cries and chants of the audience.

Flash

The feeling of warmth as his parents hug him goodbye at the bustling airport, his flight to America waiting behind him. He can feel his mother’s tears seeping through his NASA t-shirt. 

Flash 

‘I lo-like you!’ Keith stutters as they walk around the Kerberos launch site, the sunset lighting Keith’s eyes a strange shade of violet before returning back to his normal shade of grey. ‘I’m sorry, but I just wanted you to know that.’ They laugh together as they continue around the site, Shiro’s arm wrapped around Keith’s shoulders. Both of them ignoring what Keith almost said. 

Flash

Shiro is standing in a sleepy, misty field around dusk outside one lone tent. A man, who looks a lot like Keith, stands in front of him, his raven locks are in a dishevelled mess – just like how Keith looks when he first gets out of bed. Shiro feels words are about to springboard off his tongue, but before he can utter a single sentence his lips are quickly sealed by soft, warm lips and a tongue licks his lower lip as if asking politely to enter. He is so much like his – or Shiro’s Keith, maybe a bit smaller than the one he had loved and fought and now left behind. 

He pulls the Keith look-alike into his arms, holding him tightly, his fingers trembling as he attempts to unwrap him from his strange clothes. The Keith look alike moans loudly as Shiro moves down to suck and bite along the white column of his neck – leaving behind rosy blooms. 

‘I love you,’ the Keith look alike whispers huskily into his ear just as Shiro falls through the black hole. The white flashes stop abruptly and Shiro closes his eyes – accepting his ultimate fate. He is only a copy, a clone, designed to hurt and not to love. 

Voltron deserves better. Keith deserves better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Keithus (Keith) and a naked Shiro/Kuron!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked the idea of earth being invaded by the Galra two thousand years ago, just imagine what the Romans would have thought about these purple aliens! I doubt the Galra would have cared too much about our planet back then, they would have claimed it as theirs and just added it to their collection. 
> 
> Keith is going to be called Keithus is this story, I pronounce it as Kay-tus but its up to you all on how you want to read it.  
> Also, some explanation about Tex Kogane, in this story I have him live until Keithus is about 18 years old before he met Krolia (more on her later) he served in the Roman Imperial Army invading foreign lands like Gaul (France) and Britannia (Britain) he was a great fighter and military leader before he retired and moved to a scrap of land outside of Pompeii where he just raised sheep. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments and any mistakes are mine, I have no beta :(

The storms had rolled in from the north, over the great hills that stood in a travellers path to the imperial city of Rome. The great ships watched above the clouds as lightning struck huge cracks and fractures across the sky as if Jupiter himself was trying to break the sky into tiny pieces. The stars, the ones his father would have him memorise every night before bedtime, were hidden from view, just like the Galra – safe from harm in their giant flying things, for they were always absent but still watching. 

Earth had been conquered by the Galra a century ago, no empire across this planet could even fathom how to fight such strange creatures and any who attempted to fight were quickly turned to ash by their purple fire, what they called lasers. 

Ever since, the world has been left as an insignificant colony of the Galra empire, which was far greater than that of the Romans, for it had its tentacles reaching across the stars and into far-off galaxies. There was no hope for Earth to be free again, their only hope was to remain insignificant enough that they would never need to draw the attention of the Galran Emperor, Zarkon, or any of his higher-ups. 

No, for now, Earth was partially safe in the bored hands of Morvok, for he had no particular motivation or care to do anything with their planet, and long may that last – to be considered a boring planet was in a sense of high praise. 

Keithus watched the storm from the roof of the hen house, the chickens below fluttering in panic and the loud bangs from above, his big, purple fluffy ears lay flat against his damp skull. The nights were his free time where he had no more chores or responsibilities and he could get away from the crushing boredom of the grand villa. He could close his eyes, sit back and imagine himself back at home, back at the small Shepherd’s hut that he and his father used to call home. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still hear his father’s deep voice whispering legends and stories he had picked up from his travels during his time serving in the legion, tales of wolf men in Germania, great sieges in Gaul and mermen of the coasts of Britannia. 

A loud thunderclap, like a mountain collapsing, shuddered across the sky, he looked up to the sky just in time to see a white falling star come hurtling towards him and the villa, luckily just skimming the roof of the building before landing in the perfectly manicured gardens behind. The storm muting out the sound of its rough landing. 

Keithus scrambled off the roof of the hen house and ran to the master’s gardens and in the oldest olive tree, the one that was planted by his Master’s great ancestor Darius Andronicus, was a naked man who appeared to have the body of Hercules, a faded scar across the bridge of his nose and a silver right arm. If it weren’t for the knowledge of the Galra, Keithus would have thought the man had been touched by the Gods for apart from being naked the man had no burn marks from the lightning nor even a scratch from the branches of the tree which now cradled unconscious form. 

Had he been thrown out from one of the Galra ships that loomed above them? He had heard tales of vast prisons being built on the dark side of the moon where rebels from across the world were kept and punished. For this man to have survived such a journey, maybe the Gods hadn’t forsaken them to the Galra – maybe this storm was a cover so that this man could escape? 

A thousand thoughts and ideas swirled wildly in his mind as he worked his way up the tree so as to untangle the man from his perch.  
Where could he put him? 

The villa was out of the question, if the master spotted him he would just be added to his collection of slaves, the master was a kiss arse to the Galra and so endeavoured to replicate them in his household, usually this just amounted to scraps of metal and broken armour or weaponry, but recently he had been able to acquire him, Keithus, a half breed found scrounging around the outskirts of Pompeii, thieving in order to make a living. 

He had not always known he was part Galra, his father had never mentioned them and his mother had walked out on them when he was just a newborn, unlike the other children in his town whose mother’s had miraculously survived childbirth or, more likely, had died – Keithus’ had just disappeared. When he was born and up until he was eighteen years old he had always appeared human, but almost immediately after his father died a year ago, his human ears turned to large, fluffy ears that had a purple tint, his eyes had gone a faint yellow and a tail had appeared out of nowhere (he had looked). He managed to go relatively unnoticed by the townspeople, stealing and mugging in the dead of night, until he was spotted by a slave trader and captured and in a matter of just two days he was sold to his current master, the first in what would soon be a growing number of Galra half breeds and freaks – there to serve and amuse him. 

The stables were probably the safest place for the fallen man. The stable boys who worked there were all terrified of Keithus and the blacksmith only visited once a month and of course, the master never stepped foot into the place. 

Decision made, he began dragging the naked man through the pouring rain towards the stables at the far end of the estate, it was nowhere near the well-groomed gardens. Once inside he set about creating a comfortable enough bed for the man to rest on, using an old wooden bench and some horse blankets he managed to create a bed big enough for the naked man. 

The man only moaned as he was shifted onto the bed, his face heating up with the start of a fever having been exposed to rain for too long. Keithus hurriedly grabbed a rag and dipped it into the horse's water trough and applied to the man’s forehead. 

The cool touch of the old rag appeared to awaken the man as his eyes, a dark brown almost black colour, opened with a start before landing squarely on him.

‘Keith?’ he said with a tender smile, his odd metal hand reaching out to touch him. 

Keithus shuffled closer to him and grasped his hand with both of his. 

‘You need to rest.’ 

The man nodded, the smile never fading as he closed his eyes and quickly fell into a deep slumber, he still hadn’t let go of his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Keeping the man safe from the master and the other slaves was easier said than done. In theory, Keithus thought he could trust one or two slaves at the estate but they only cared for themselves and watched their own backs – there was no shared comradery amongst slaves at this place, and some slaves were worse than others, they were the ‘worshippers’ the ones who did anything and everything for the master, worshipping his every shit! 

No, Keithus was alone for now and although he was able to bribe the stable boys for the time being (using stolen bread from the kitchens) it was only going to get harder once the stranger awoke from his fitful slumber. 

Keithus was never very good at thinking things through, that was what his father always used to say ‘think before you act’ he would say in his calm, gruff voice as they trained under the harsh sunlight, spear too heavy in Keithus’ small hands. 

He shook the memory from his mind and continued his task of scrubbing the glistening mosaic floor, its tiny pieces coming together to form a picture of the Galra invasion, the purple stones appeared harsh compared to the soft whites, blues and reds that formed the shocked Senators as they watched one of their own being decapitated on the steps of the Forum. He had no idea if that was what actually happened a century ago, his grandfather, a man he had never met had apparently been in Rome at the time of the invasion and he had fled the shooting purple lights but had lost his entire family in the fires that the Galra created, trapped in a cellar and turned to ash. 

And that was only in Rome, according to some who whispered these tales in the dark, the atrocities the Galra inflicted on Rome was widespread not only across the Imperial Empire but also in places that had no names across vast stretches of water and mountains – for just a few days a century ago, the whole world was alight with purple fire. 

There were plenty of mosaics and tapestries in the villa that told the gruesome details of the Galra invasion, the master was enamoured by them, worshipped them even for the master had cast out the old shrines for the Gods, no longer did Jupiter or Minerva sit with pride amongst the burning incense and small sacrifices of bread, wine and chicken, their statuettes had been smashed and burned and quickly replaced with anything Galra made, currently pride of place on the mantelpiece was an old helmet from one of the Galra warriors – according to the trader the master had bought it from (the same trader who had sold him to the master) the helmet was used by one of the Galra during the invasion a hundred years ago. 

It was complete made up shit but the master bought it anyway, for he even bought other people’s lies to tell.

Mosaic now scrubbed clean Keithus moved onto the next one, this one showing the Galra Emperor Zarkon sitting on a luxurious throne.   
Just a few more hours before midnight and Keithus could go and see his stranger. Just a few more hours. 

__

Shiro awoke to feeling of a really sore back and the smell of horse manure. He blearily opened his eyes to see the ceiling of a barn with a few birds, swallows perhaps, twittering away on the beams. An old blanket, fit for the size of a horses back was draped across his legs and he could already feel the itchy bitemarks from the fleas. 

With a groan he attempted to sit up, hands clutching his head as his brain screamed at him not to move. 

Down below he could hear some young men grumbling as they shovelled the horse manure out of the stalls and into carts. Any other time he wouldn’t consider them a threat, but he had a stabbing headache, his back ached and they had shovels and pitchforks. 

Where was he? He thought as he glanced around him, his eyes roaming for any sort of clue that could provide him with a hint of where he was. 

He remembered falling and seeing the planet stretched out before him. He remembered marvelling at how it looked so much like Earth, a place he had technically never been on. Then a face, a beautiful face with giant, purple fluffy ears and long black hair that just kissed his shoulders – he looked so much like Keith. He wished it were him, that what he had done, the scar, the pain and the deaths he had inflicted on Keith, were all just a nightmare. But he knew better than to hope for that, the pain had been real, the fight had been real, Keith’s tears had been real. 

Before he could sink further into his thoughts a familiar voice called out to the stable hands below.   
‘I’m coming to check up on him, don’t disturb us,’ he said with a slight threat. 

The sound of shovel and pitchforks dropping to floor signalled the boys had fled the stables. 

Shiro listened keenly as the ladder creaked as his visitor and saviour climbed up, a pair of purple ears attached to a bed of black hair emerged into view and a beautiful, scar-free face peered down at him, the man’s tail flicking from side to side like a grumpy cat. 

The man stretched out his hand and offered him some warm and fragrant bread. 

‘I brought you some bread, eat up quickly so that you can regain your strength.’

‘T-Thank you, err…’ said Shiro.

‘My name is Keithus, son of Tacitus,’ Keithus looked away from his eyes, ‘but you don’t need to know that,’ he mumbled more to himself than to Shiro. He quickly stood up and went to fetch for some water which actually turned out to be wine – ‘drink, its better than the water,’ he said, the leather flask shaking slightly under Shiro’s nose. 

The wine was sweet, too sweet for Shiro’s tastes, not like the beer he would smuggle in back at the Garrison or the weird, disgusting drink that Coran was so fond of – as Lance had so eloquently described it, it tasted like feet. 

‘Why are you helping me?’ he asked after taking his final gulp of wine.

‘Well you were stuck in a tree,’ Keithus sighed, his shoulders hunching up to where his human ears should be, ‘to be honest, you looked like a man who had gone through the full wrath of the Galra, it was more likely the Gods who had saved you, not me, besides I wouldn’t say you are safe now. If my master finds you he’ll add you to his collection, like me,’ Keithus thrust out his right wrist revealing a burned brand mark in the shape of the letter ‘A’ and small ‘p’ linked together. 

‘The master has a fascination for anything Galra or anything strange, I am apparently half Galra, so I am now his property. I am sorry sir, but I am afraid I have put you in more danger,’ His voice cracking at the end he turned his face away from Shiro, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

‘No, you saved me and I owe you my thanks and more.’ 

Keithus scoffed at that but said no more and took a swig of the wine flask that Shiro had just sipped from. 

‘My name is Shiro by the way, Takashi Shirogane.’ 

‘So do I call you Takashi?’

This time it was Shiro’s turn to look away, his cheeks blushing a deep crimson. 

‘Yes, you may if you like.’ 

Suddenly, a bell rang out across the courtyard outside the stables and the slave overseer’s hoarse voice called out, sending fear down every slave's spine, ‘SLAVES PRESENT YOURSELVES IN THE MAIN HALL!’ 

Keithus shuddered, took another swig from his wine flask before handing it back to Shiro. 

‘I am sorry but I must go, if I can I will see you tomorrow morning, just rest. Oh and if you need to piss just use that bucket there,’ Keithus patted Shiro on the shoulder but just before he disappeared from view down the ladder he turned back to look at Shiro ‘Rest Takashi, you need it.’ 

Before Shiro could recover from the shock Keithus had climbed down the ladder and back to the villa.

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea wouldn't leave alone so I thought I should just write it and see where it takes me. I have not written any Sheith before but I love the ship. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think and if you would like to see more :)
> 
> I also have a Tumblr if you want to talk/follow me there - all dedicated to Sheith - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sheith-fanfic-writer


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